angelo and dodge

As it ever was, Angelo knew it was getting late. But late was good, late was familiar. The hour meant the usual crowd at the Round packing tables and milling along the bar in the dim lighting as he and the other Seraphim went through their set, coaxing notes of pure velvet from their instruments. He felt good lately, like there was a blue sky only he could see. Maybe it was Lenore that had triggered it, maybe the dawning of the new year was finally impacting him with all of its' hopes.